The Ultimate Way to Become the Perfect Man

by Mark McCoy

  Or a pair of tourists, a man and a woman, arrive at the hotel to check in. As befits tourists, they come with two suitcases. They put them down and sign in. Afterwards, the woman lifts the suitcase. There’s no gentle bending of the body toward the side, only the hand. The suitcase is empty. She’s the woman you’re looking for.

  Again, you scan the room, looking for information. A man was supposed to be living in the room. A woman was supposed to join him and then they were supposed to leave and not come back. Did they already leave, or have they not yet arrived? In the ashtray, there are cigarette butts. If there are two types, the picture is clear. Even a child can understand. But let’s say all the butts are from the same brand of cigarettes. Examine how the cigarettes were stubbed out and the length of the butts. If you spot two different ways of stubbing, bingo. Women usually stub out their cigarettes gently; men tend to smash their cigarettes, sometimes even folding them in half. Women leave longer butts. Lipstick is a no-brainer, and no agent was born yesterday, but touch the filters. Hers will be greasier and stickier.

  Did someone pay the receptionist a few pounds to let him scan your room? Pull a hair from your head, put some spit on it and attach it to the closet doors. It should still be there at night. If not, get out quickly. Do this on a few openings, just to make sure.

  A gray car is parked near your office. Evening. Dark. Chilly. You’re on the sixth floor. Is there someone in the car? He’s probably tempted to leave the car running and the heat on. Look for the exhaust pipe. Steam would be coming out of it.

  We talked about sharp senses and the importance of observation. There’s a difference between seeing and observing. If you’re alone, you develop a certain kind of listening. To yourself and the world. You don’t just see more, you see in advance. A moment before everyone else. Some sign will give an indication about an event that is about to happen. As for the event, everyone will see it. When I’m driving, I notice the problem before the driver in front of me. I won’t get stuck behind him the way he got stuck behind the car that stopped. I’ll change lanes before him, even though I was behind him. That’s why I don’t drive behind cars that have a curtain on the rear window. I need to see what’s happening ahead.

  Which reminds me of that story with the diamonds.

  ***

  Winter ‘94. The scene: Cyprus. A small island that is like one big bar where everyone is either an agent, a double agent or a triple one. Because everyone is suspicious, no one is more suspicious than anyone else. The information was interesting. Agents from the former Soviet Union are trying to sell non-conventional weapons to the Iranians in order to transfer them to the Hezbollah. The Hezbollah is financed by the Iranians, who see it as a front-line arm to controlling Lebanon and a bridgehead against Israel. The information was about a bunch of these agents wandering around Larnaka, making shady deals to prove their seriousness. We wanted to get our hands on them.

  We arrived in Larnaka, Belgian diamond traders with ten kilograms of rare diamonds. M., an Israeli diamond dealer, started a rumor that we had diamonds worth millions of dollars in our hands and were interested in getting rid of them at half price. Peter found us. A British spy who had been fired because of his affinity for drugs and gambling. Found himself a local beauty and settled on the island. Traded anything that moved and allowed for a nice commission.

  For him, the deal was complex. We’d get the money, but half of it would be in drugs. Cocaine. Our clients, two Pakistanis, were interested in diamonds, but wanted to get rid of cocaine from a previous deal. That’s the mess of the Mediterranean basin. Commodities and ideas switch hands on the way to the big and important deals.

  We met at an anonymous fish restaurant. Sat alone on the second floor. Nobody believed anybody. We brought along someone who understood drugs to make sure it was good stuff. They brought along a diamond expert. When you sell at half price, the first suspicion is that the goods are fake. The scene was surreal. Between fish trays and glasses of ouzo, one guy is tasting cocaine while the other is examining diamonds.

  Our diamonds passed the test. The cocaine, too. We closed a price. We drove to the hotel. We stored the diamonds and cocaine in a special safe room that had been assigned to us. Two separate safes. Each side received one key. Two keys were needed to open the room.

  We all moved to the bar. Cigars and whiskey. Spirits were high. Women, politics, international intrigues. It’s a dirty job but somebody has to do it. We left at midnight and arranged to meet the next morning at 8:30 a.m. Their flight was set for two hours later.

  The next morning in the safe room, we turned both keys at the same time and each side took his own suitcase. The Pakistanis went to the airport. A private jet was waiting for them at the end of the runway. There was one thing they didn’t take into account. At 3:30 a.m., one of the world’s best safe crackers, a dear man who arrived on a night flight from Madrid, broke into the safe room where our suitcases were stored. He switched the suitcases. Everything looked exactly the same, except for one small difference. The new suitcase contained fake diamonds.

  9:45 a.m. Our Pakistani friends walked toward passport control. The customs officer in Cyprus received an anonymous phone call: two foreigners were leaving the country with stolen diamonds worth tens of millions of dollars. Three customs personnel stopped the Pakistanis. Diamonds were discovered in the suitcases. The Pakistanis were detained. The (fake) diamonds, confiscated.

  A British lawyer (our man, what did you expect?) comes to bail them out. He makes them an offer they can’t refuse: immediate release and exit from Cyprus with the diamonds in exchange for giving us full details about our friends, the KGB agents. Who, how many, why, when, where. The Pakistanis had no choice. They talked with the lawyer. An hour later, they boarded the plane. We had everything we wanted in our hands. In their hands, there was a suitcase filled with fake diamonds. The customs officer in Cyprus rubbed his hands with pleasure. His part in the plan – a ten-carat diamond. Essentially, all he did was release people who didn’t actually need to be stopped anyway.

  To this day, we wonder if he knows that his lover’s diamond is a fake.

  Bond in London

  Being cool overseas

  In Rome, I buy incredible prosciutto. In Vienna, I drink cappuccino with mocha raclette. In London, I sit in Michelin-rated oyster bars. In New York, I hang around dark bars in the East Village. Okay, I also sleep at the Mercer Hotel in Soho. I’m not a kid anymore. In Barcelona there’s an amazing tapas bar, I can’t remember its name. In Istanbul, I buy carpets. In Paris, I sit at L’atelier de Robuchon. In Tel Aviv, I stay up all night. So do the Israelis. There are thousands of places, and every one of them is open. I have no idea if anyone works in that city. In Tokyo, I’m at the Hyatt, finding lost people in Tokyo. In Marseilles, I eat fish soup with local fishermen. In Turkey, there are incredible sailing bays. In Lisbon, oh Lisbon, the most talked about city in the world, there are terrific restaurants with seafood straight from the Atlantic and excellent wines at reasonable prices.

  I’m not a tour guide and I definitely won’t tell you how to see Europe in seventeen days. I remind you that we are here to make you amazing. Okay ?

  The driver

  A driver should be waiting for you with your name on a sign when you arrive at the airport. It’s not complicated to organize. It costs a few bucks more than a regular taxi, and is worth every penny. Someone is waiting for you. You won’t have to wait in the rain for a taxi. Not to mention taxi strikes. Someone who’ll tell you what’s going on in the city, where’s the best show. Ask him to bring your tickets to the hotel. Give him a good tip. It’s nothing compared to the cost of the entire trip. Take his phone number and you already have a guide to the city.

  Upgrade

  You arrive at the hotel. Immediately tell the concierge that you want to see the room before you bring up the suitcases. The clerk will understand that he’s not dealing with someone who’ll eat just any old meatball, and give you a reasonable room. If the room d
oesn’t look good to you, ask about upgrading. It might be worth it to add a few bucks. Give the concierge a nice tip, too. You’ll be needing him.

  The bartender, the waiter and the rest

  Leave the suitcases. Go down to the bar with her. There’s nothing like a small drink to start a vacation. At the bar, pay attention to the older bartender. He’s seen and heard everything. Take interest in his well-being. Ask where he lives, about his family, and so on. He’ll take care of you. He won’t be the only one. Information about parties, escort services, drugs, whatever – the driver, the barman, the concierge, the doorman, even the hotel waiter – these are your people. You need to understand who knows about these things. Who you can trust. Ask freely: “Do you know the city?” He’ll answer: “What do you need?” You say: “Everything.” From there, see how he responds.

  Breakfast

  In the morning, order a coffee with half a croissant to your room. I’m against breakfast. You’re full and don’t have energy. Have some cereal and be done with it. Walking around town with the top button of your jeans open on the first day is not acceptable.

  Hotels

  You don’t just choose a random hotel. I always choose the right hotels. The ones people talk about. Not because of their reputations. I’m just against walking for hours in an effort to see the entire city. Instead, you can sit and watch the city come to you. In the right hotels, the restaurant-bar is where everything happens. You go out for the night, come back at a reasonable hour, and your hotel is the hottest bar in the city. You can get to know people, drink yourself senseless, and then a simple ride in the elevator puts you in heaven.

  Today, with booking.com, the world is at your fingertips (and often without any cancellation fees). Here are a few recommendations. And if you go, remember to send my regards to the barman. My main man in every hotel...

  Madrid – Only YOU, Unico, Villa Magna

  Lisbon – Tivoli, Lumiara, Fontecruz, Memo

  Berlin – Hotel de Rome, SO Berlin, Michelberger

  Hong Kong – The Upper House, Mandarin Oriental

  Barcelona – ABaC, The One

  Tel Aviv – The Norman, Hotel Montefiore, The Drisco, The Ritz-Carlton (Herzliya)

  Florence – Gallery Art Hotel, J.K. Place, Velonas Jungle

  New York City – The NoMad, EDITION, The Mark Hotel, Crosby Street Hotel, The Bowery, The Ritz-Carlton, The Mercer, Andaz Wallstreet, The Benjamin, The Bowery

  Los Angeles – The Peninsula Beverly Hills, Shade Hotel, Surfrider Beach, The Native Hotel, The Beverly Hills Hotel

  Chicago – Langham

  Athens – Njv, Grand Bretage

  Amsterdam – Jaz Amsterdam, Zoku Amsterdam, Conservatorium Hotel, The Dylan, Andaz

  Sydney – Park Hyatt, Old Clare Hotel, Ovolo 1888

  Paris – Buddha Bar Hotel, Hotel Daniel, Hotel Chavanel, Le Cinq Codet, Excelsior

  Vienna – Park Hyatt, Do & Co, Sans Souci, Guesthouse

  Zurich – Widder, Park Hyatt, Baur au Lac

  Rome – Majestic, De russie, JK Place

  London – Ham Yard Hotel, The Arch, Charlotte Street Hotel, The Beaumont

  Moscow – Ritz Carlton

  Copenhagen – Nimb Hotel, Hotel D’angleterre

  Oslo – The Thief

  Iceland – 101 Hotel, Vic, The Retreat, Hotel Borg, Apotek

  San Francisco – The Battery, Four Seasons, Hyatt Regency

  Prague – BoHo

  Milan – VIU

  Edinburgh – Scotsman, The Balmoral, Radisson Collection

  Planning

  Plan where and when in advance. Again, I prefer a local bistro or wine bar for lunch. It’s enough to have a glass of wine with some grilled goose. Or prosciutto, pasta and grappa. Or beer with a medium steak to share. Okay, with a green salad. You don’t need eight dishes and you don’t need seven desserts. Go for small and high quality. Always. Think of a place that you like in your own country. Ask the young barman where your place is here. No need to look far. Don’t waste your time. Think that a genius like you traveled across the city to sit five yards from where you are.

  Museums

  Not simple. So many myths, so much guilt. How could we have been to Paris without seeing the Louvre? Okay, listen. Find which museum has one of the best known pictures in the world. When I say “best known” I mean the Mona Lisa by Da Vinci or Michelangelo’s Creation. Go to the museum and go straight to the floor where the picture is hanging. Find the masterpiece? Good. Sit across from it. Study it. This painting is worth a long look. It’s worth fifty million dollars. Here’s a short (partial) list of some of these paintings:

  Picasso – Guernica

  Claude Monet – Water Lilies

  Botticelli – The Birth of Venus

  Van Gogh – Shoes

  Marc Chagall – Paris through the Window

  Joan Miro – Cat Encircled by the Flight of a Bird

  Renoir – Luncheon of the Boating Party

  Try to internalize the painting. Try to understand why it fascinates visitors and collectors. Does it do something to you? Talk with your wife about the picture. That conversation between the two of you is worth fifteen floors of walking through museums. Finished with the picture? Look for the museum’s café. Your wife can go on a bit without you. You can make a few calls to the office, or reserve a spot at some trendy restaurant for the evening.

  Galleries

  Now this is something that I like. Galleries are usually located in cool areas. Off-beat areas that will obviously be the next hot spot. Cool cafés, artists and art dealers. The air is saturated with a combination of poverty and great wealth. Interesting. Galleries are usually one floor only. Not too much walking, and great possibility for interesting encounters.

  Shopping

  To be fair, I must admit that once upon a time, I was also caught in the loop. Slave to the idea that if you go on vacation, you must come back with a mountain of new clothes. You run from one store to another, trying on clothes as though you were a tailor’s dummy. At the end of it all, you discover that half of what you bought you don’t even like. What’s the madness? You’d think it was free.

  The third day of your holiday will be for shopping. Wake up, grab a small coffee, and leave the hotel. To her surprise, a taxi and driver are waiting for you. The idea is simple: This driver will accompany you all day. He’ll stop in front of the boutiques, you’ll shop, throw your purchases into the cab and continue to the next address. No route required. Stop wherever you want. Browse. Nothing good? Continue onwards. The driver can double-park or drive around the block and come back in fifteen minutes. With the car, continue through the afternoon and more shopping. No need to drag around heavy bags and no need to return to the hotel after every purchase.

  Right about now, you’re probably thinking I’m some idiot who thinks you’re a millionaire. So no. It’s just a question of priorities. A driver and car can cost you about $180. Equivalent to one-and-a-quarter pairs of pants. Think about it. Together, you’ll spend about $2000 on your shopping trip. Isn’t it worth it to spend less than ten percent more on a car and driver? Isn’t it worth it for her to think that you’re the smartest, most generous, most indulgent man ever, a guy who knows how to get by? Most importantly, you took care of all the running around and shopping in a single day.

  What’s the rush?

  Tourists who come to New York City usually end up with a slipped disc, or sore muscles all over their bodies. All from wanting to see as much as possible. Relax. Here’s a tip I enjoy: Stop once a day for a foot massage. Get a mani-pedi. You put your feet into a hot water bath, and let the soft, warm hands of an expert indulge you in pressing and massaging your feet with lotion. Nothing is more rejuvenating than this.

  Beyond this, go slowly. Haste is of the devil, as the saying goes. Ask where the locals go. Where is the best market? What’s the city’s personality? When does the city come alive, and when are there only tourists in the streets? Where’s the best local food? Clearly, in to
urist towns like Venice, you have to go to the small restaurants where the locals go. Usually, these won’t be along the main routes.

  Parties

  There are parties every day, especially from Thursday to Saturday. Ask the hotel to call one of the leading fashion magazines and say that they have a guest (your wife) who is a well-known model in her country, and that you very much want to drop by one of the popular parties. That they should leave her name at the entrance. There usually isn’t any trouble getting into parties, as long as you don’t make any mistakes. What does this mean? For example, if you and your woman dress poorly. Poorly means that you show up in black trousers with red Converse. A white T-shirt and a green jacket. On your neck, a shell necklace. Classiest is effortless black for both of you, with the ease of seasoned jet setters. You arrive in a cab that stops right in front of the door, and the moment you get out of the car, a cameraman pushes in front of you and shoots annoying flashbulbs in your face. You shield her and make movements with your hands that say get out of our way. The photographer is the young barman from the hotel (remember, the one you were nice to from the start?) who, for fifty bucks comes with you in the cab carrying your camera. By the way, this way you’ll also have photos of the evening.

  Finale

  Don’t try to cram into the last day what you didn’t have time for until then. Take your time. The best memory you’re going to have from your vacation is sitting with her on a bench in Barcelona, drinking a glass of wine and gazing into each other’s eyes. Take the trip to the airport in stride, too. Don’t show up at the last minute. Check the suitcases and go to the bar. There’s nothing to buy at the Duty Free. It’s all nonsense. Spend the last half-day of your vacation calmly. Sit with a glass of wine and board the plane with the taste of vacation still on your tongue.